Monday, October 24, 2016

I’ve been sad, angry, lethargic, overwhelmed to the point of
being unable to get out of bed. I would never use “depressed,” though, to
describe how I felt. Part of it, I’m sure, is stigma. Another part, however, is
knowing my friends who have been depressed – clinically or situationally – and
who at one point really did want to end their lives.

I was bullied through a good part of school. In first grade,
my best friend told me she was leaving me to hang out with the cooler kids. In
fifth and sixth grade, my best friend and I were belittled by teachers and
physically threatened by classmates for being different. I became the lead drummer
in junior high because I spent every lunch hiding in the band room, practicing
so I could avoid the lunchroom where no one would sit with me and I’d gotten
shoved and told “Stop following us! We don’t want you around us!” by a group of
girls I’d thought were friends. In high school, things changed because there
were over 2000 kids, so enough of us outcasts and geeks found each other and
made our own group – but we all knew we should never travel alone. Regardless
of gender, ethnicity, religion, or if we were Magic the Gathering people or Dungeons
and Dragons players, we employed the buddy system and made friends with the
librarians who let us stay there rather than the more dangerous realms of lunch
rooms and study halls.

Through all that, I never came close to wanting to end my
life.

My emotions didn’t go to the dark level I saw in others, so
I didn’t want to take that term “depression” from them. I was worried about
appropriation before I’d even heard the word “appropriation.” I loved these
people, and I respected what they were going through – even when it made me
feel helpless. It wasn’t about me feeling helpless; it was about them. People
who were hurting the way I’d hurt – only much, much worse.

I’m going to get into a confessional that some people might
just consider “woo-woo” or “New Agey” or some other diminutive term that
downplays the intense levels humans can connect. This is a #sorrynotsorry
moment where I think such people are wrong.

A friend of mine, also a writer – keeping names confidential
– and I regularly share how we both are deeply affected by others’ emotion, and
how that affects each of us in our writingand working lives. We remind each other to protect our energies –
because if someone is very excited, we get that way. And if someone was
hurting, we take on that pain in hopes that it made them hurt less. Often unconsciously.
Often to a level where we need time to physically, mentally, and emotionally
recover from a particular conversation.

When I started learning about energy work in my adulthood,
I’d been told by more than a few people I needed to protect myself better when
it came to energy. I did. Somewhat.

Until I didn’t.

I was visiting another dear friend of mine who was going
through an especially difficult time in her life. She was successful, happily
married, brilliant in literary gifts as well as science... And for the first
time, she was actively thinking of ways she might end her life. She was even
planning ways she might do so with as little impact to others as possible –
because she didn’t want to hurt anyone. I listened, we held each other, and I
just wanted to do something to help.

Perhaps I did. I don’t know. I know she is still alive and
at least posting happy things on social media.

I also know that I was more drained than I’d ever been. And
a few days later, I was feeling things I’d never felt before.

I didn’t want to kill myself.

But I didn’t want to do anything. I hurt. Everywhere. I
couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t stop crying. I felt utterly and completely empty,
like there was nothing inside and nothing good would ever happen again. My
brain was spinning its logic wheels; there was no reason for me to have these
emotions. My work and money issues were actually doing well, I was writing a
story I really enjoyed, no one I knew was terminally sick or dying or dead...

I was sitting in the car while my husband had run into the
store and I was just sobbing uncontrollably.

Not only were there all those negative feelings, but the
fact there was no logical reason for me to have those feelings, feelings I’d
never felt before, was utterly terrifying.

Fortunately, I do have a wonderfully supportive husband who
took how I was feeling very seriously and spent the day doing things with me.
He looked online for ways to help “reset the brain” while I napped. Then we
went walking in the woods. After that, we visited our long-time friend,
apothecary, and “kitchen witch,” who smudged me and suggested foods with
garlic, tumeric, and chocolate. My husband drove to all this so I wouldn’t have
to, and listened to me going on and on while he drove.Then we went home and I took the “day off”
and snuggled with him as we binge watched Supernatural.*

The feelings alleviated as the day passed, but not entirely.
It was not an immediate fix. Not for
a week, maybe two, did I feel even close to my usual self. And the memory still
chills my stomach and grips my lungs so I feel I need my asthma inhaler.

Those feelings – the combination of them all at once – that
is how I understand depression.It’s not
just one thing. It’s everything all at
once at the loudest volume and THE
HIGHEST PRESSURE. And no strength to handle it.

I’ve never been diagnosed as clinically depressed. In fact,
I even got turned down for a weight study because, during the interview, I had
no signs of depression whatsoever.

But it happened to me.

It happened to me, and it can happen to anyone. It could
happen to everyone; you don’t need a diagnosis.

Do I know what my other friends with depression know? Certainly
not. I know enough about emotions that they are not the same for any two
people. And everyone has a different pain threshold. Can I speak for people who
suffer clinical depression or any other type of depression? Absolutely not.

But I can say how I
felt. And I can share the stories I’m permitted to share. For those who are
suffering, you aren’t alone – even if someone might only share a moment or a
piece of that pain – someone has felt desperation and depression. Someone believes what you say you feel. Someone
wants to help.

For those who don’t understand, can’t imagine...perhaps my
short moment will give you pause, will describe it in a way you can understand
and help you empathize. It happened to me; it can happen to anyone; so everyone needs to be aware and everyone
should be more compassionate. I hope that adding to this conversation, we can
build a better support system and a kinder, more aware culture.

If you are experiencing depression and suicidal thoughts,
here are some resources for you. Remember, you’re not alone and people care
about you:

http://www.nami.org/ -
The National Alliance on Mental Health has a lot of resources you can call for
emergency help, to educate yourself,to
find community support, and more.

* When I had my writing colleague who has confided about me
about her depression beta read this article, she gave me a lot of great
feedback, but one thing she told me was that I needed to detail what I did to
get through my depressive episode. I was reticent to do so because I get
infuriated at all the “inspirational” posters, memes, messages, etc. that say
“You don’t need pills; you just need to walk in the woods.” I want to slap the
people who post them because it’s insulting and outright deadly. Period. Long
explanation short: Sometimes natural, herbal, cognitive-behavior methods work;
sometimes they don’t and medicine does. There are good reasons to take
medication and there are good reasons to not take medication. Respect what
works for each individual, share information and techniques, but NEVER shame
someone or belittle their choices or needs.

About
the campaign:

#HoldOnToTheLight
is a blog campaign encompassing blog posts by fantasy and science fiction
authors around the world in an effort to raise awareness around treatment for
depression, suicide prevention, domestic violence intervention, PTSD
initiatives, bullying prevention and other mental health-related issues. We
believe fandom should be supportive, welcoming and inclusive, in the long
tradition of fandom taking care of its own. We encourage readers and fans to
seek the help they or their loved ones need without shame or embarrassment.